


A Point of Mutual Respect

by Raven_Knight



Category: Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Centered around Obi-Wan & Ventress, Don't copy to another site, Enemies to Friends, Found Familiy, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Jedi Culture, Reluctant Heart to Heart Discussion
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-01
Updated: 2019-09-01
Packaged: 2020-10-04 03:49:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,850
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20464535
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Raven_Knight/pseuds/Raven_Knight
Summary: Fleeing from a common enemy in a confined space has a way of getting two people to realize they'd be better off on the same side instead of looking for ways to kill each other. For Obi-Wan Kenobi and Asajj Ventress, this means some things stay the same while some things change entirely.





	A Point of Mutual Respect

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Shadaras](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shadaras/gifts).

> Disclaimer: I do not own Star Wars. This piece, archived at Archive of Our Own (Ao3), is purely a non-commercial work of fiction from which I am not profiting in any way. This work may not be reproduced, archived, or redistributed by any means and/or in any format without prior written permission from me. Permission may be obtained by contacting me at r4v3n.kn1ght@gmail.com.
> 
> Big thank you to Gimmemore for taking a look at this after I finished it and catching my clunky sentences and un-clunking them, and being a supportive friend with all the stuff I write! Thank you, my friend! 
> 
> Another big thank you to the Exchange mods, TexasDreamer01 & Pandora151, who proved wonderful resources and supportive guides for yours truly in my first exchange process ever and not thinking I'm an utter moron in my confusion during this whole process. You two are fantastic and I'm glad to have taken part in your exchange!
> 
> And thank you to Shadaras for the inspiring prompt(s)! It was a touch choice between two of them, but this one grabbed my brain's attention and I went with it. I hope you like the end result of this! 
> 
> Note to Readers: Watch the episode “Revenge” and hit stop right after Maul and Savage start stabbing through the door. I’m making the ejected part of their ship a little more…livable than what it seems like they escape in during the episode, which literally seems to be just a cockpit. That's ridiculous. Lastly, here and there I may have borrowed dialogue from various episodes of Clone Wars and a few other Star Wars sources. Enjoy this fic, everyone! ~ RK

**A Point of Mutual Respect**  
By  
**Raven Knight**

“Hurry, Kenobi!”

“I’m working on it.” He heard the airlock door swoosh and seal shut, silencing the sound of the Zabrak brothers’ lightsabers melting through the cargo bay door. Obi-Wan’s fingers raced over the controls to the next order of business. Separation and Escape.

“Come on, hurry!” Asajj Ventress, his unexpected though appreciated ally shouted from the back of the cockpit. Whenever he’d met Ventress in combat, he’d heard rage or bravado in her low voice. He’d never heard her sound nervous. The anxiety and tension in her voice spiked them in Obi-Wan in turn. “Now would be a good time.”

But he couldn’t dwell on that. He had to get them away. One wrong command into the controls meant their deaths and Obi-Wan had no intention of dying in the middle of space in the cockpit of some rickety ship with Ventress as a witness to his demise. Not that she would have long to celebrate the end of his life. These angry Zabraks wanted them both dead.

He slammed his fist onto the control board. “Blast!” The indicator lights turned blue, the cockpit shuddered, then separated from the cargo hold and rocketed forward in a burst of power, leaving the two Zabraks behind them.

“That was cutting it a little close,” Ventress said. Obi-Wan heard her clear relief. He couldn’t feel the same.

“You do know it’s not over,” he admonished, as he hurried to input a destination into the navicomputer.

“I know.”

“They’ll be after us both now.” He glanced out the corner of his eye to check her location. She’d approached his seat, no doubt to see where he’d decided to send them.

“What makes you think that I’d want to go to Corusc—”

He didn’t give her a chance to object or overrule him. He stabbed at the screen with his finger and locked the controls and their course. The ship responded and entered hyperspace. Obi-Wan reeled in dizziness at the sight of the universe stretching and the light of the stars blurring around them. He closed his eyes and tried to hide it.

“I guess Coruscant it is, then,” Ventress said, accepting the lock on the controls with a displeased nod to the navicomputer. “How did you even become a target for Savage?”

Obi-Wan swallowed his nausea. It didn’t work. His focus slipped through his grasp and he scrambled after it, unable to gain control. Dizziness sent his head lolling forward as the last of his adrenaline gave out on him. “Not…not Savage. The other…one. Darth Maul.”

His head flopped back against the headrest. He latched onto one of the Ventresses swimming in his vision and hoped she was the real one.

“Kenobi?”

He pushed himself semi-upright by the armrests with boneless and sluggish limbs. “It’s a…long…story.” His eyes rolled and he slumped forward in the pilot’s seat. The deckplates came at him with alarming speed.

“Kenobi!”

Ventress grabbed him as he fell and Obi-Wan’s vision faded to black. His last thought before he lost consciousness was that he hoped she wouldn’t kill him in his defenseless state.

He grew aware of the sounds around him before he pried open his eyes. The humming of the truncated ship’s engines let him know several things at once. The ship hadn’t landed and therefore they were still in transit. Ventress hadn’t disengaged the course lock to Coruscant. Though he supposed she could have during his time unconscious and changed their destination before he woke up. This unpleasant thought motivated him to open his eyes and take stock of his situation.

Ventress had put him on a cot. _How unusually kind._ She didn’t kill him. He quickly focused on his injuries. She didn’t help him either. _That’s oddly reassuring._ Had she tried to care for his wounds, Obi-Wan’s suspicion would have spiked.

As his alertness increased, so did his awareness of his battered body. He tried to roll onto his side, but his back protested the movement with a burst of pain deep in his muscles and bones. It stole his breath from him as he hovered halfway between lying on his agonized back or forcing himself to finish his original plan and shift onto his side. He bit back a cry of pain as he decided that putting his weight on his side would probably be the better position. Tucking his arm under the flimsy pillow to support his head, he hissed with each painful inhale as his expanding ribcage moved abused bones and muscles too sore for any activity, including the necessity of breathing.

He was about to attempt a light meditation to properly begin to heal some areas of his broken body when Ventress interrupted his focus. “I wasn’t serious when I said they knocked the fight out of you.”

Obi-Wan looked at her with a grimace of confusion. “Was that before or after you hit me awake?”

Ventress tilted her head, replaying the moment in her mind. “Before.”

He snorted then flinched at the burst of pain the action brought him. “That explains why I don’t remember you saying it.” He buried his own physical discomfort through sheer force of will. “Know what else I don’t remember?” Ventress made a thoroughly unimpressed sound. “How I got from sitting up in a chair to lying down on this cot. Would you care to explain that?” He fixed her with a commanding stare.

But Ventress was no Padawan or Initiate of the Temple that responded to the authority of his gaze as he demanded answers. She tightened her lips around a grin that wanted to spread. “You’re a smart boy, Kenobi. If you can’t figure that one out, it’s no wonder the Jedi Council is always a step behind in this war with such incompetence in their leaders.”

_Well, that was uncalled for._ They stared hard at each other. Obi-Wan conceded with a single, slow nod. “The last thing I remember is the floor coming at my face. And considering the next thing I knew was waking up here, and without a broken nose from landing face first on the floor, I assume you put me in here.” Ventress made no move to confirm or deny his conclusion. _I know I’m right anyway._ “Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it, Kenobi,” She mumbled, turning away to head out of the room.

“I just did.”

Ventress halted at the door. “I only came in here because you wouldn’t stop making those pathetic whimpering noises.” Obi-Wan would have drawn back in offense if he didn’t know the motion would result in him making the very noises she mentioned. “I came to see if you were dying.”

Obi-Wan couldn’t help the teasing grin. “Why, Ventress, my sweet, I didn’t know you cared so much for my welfare.”

Ventress’s grin wasn’t as pleasant. “I don’t. But I’d rather get to Coruscant with a Jedi still alive than with one who’s dead. It works out better for me with you alive.”

All teasing vanished from his demeanor. “Always looking out for your own interests, then, Ventress. How very Separatist of you.”

Her spine stiffened. “I’m not a Separatist.” She punched the door release and it slid open for her. “Not anymore,” she added as a quiet afterthought.

Before Obi-Wan could say anything else, the door slid shut, separating him from Ventress. _What did that mean?_ Even had she stayed, he didn’t think he had the strength to conduct a full argument or discussion with her. He slipped into a light meditation to work on repairing his body. His questions for Ventress could wait until later. First, he needed to heal.

Something slammed onto the deckplates near Obi-Wan’s cot. He awakened instantly and reached for his lightsaber only to find his hip empty. A second later, agony erupted in his back and chest and he couldn’t stop the yelp of pain that burst from his throat. He collapsed on his side, hissing through clenched teeth.

“I think you might have some broken ribs.” He tried to glare at Ventress but he knew his overwhelming pain stole away any command of the situation he hoped to achieve. She wasn’t looking at him anyway. “They did a number on you,” she mused aloud rummaging through the container for something. Obi-Wan didn’t have the energy to crane his neck to try to see what she was doing.

“And did you escape unscathed?”

Ventress ignored him completely. She upended the container and scattered its contents on the floor between them. She frowned at Obi-Wan in disappointment. “Looks like you’re on your own, Kenobi. What’s left of this ship has no bacta patches in it.”

Dismay ran through Obi-Wan. Despite his attempts with a healing meditation, its benefits eluded him; the pain of his injuries clouded his inability to focus. “That is disappointing,” he said, closing his eyes to hide that emotion and to try to come up with a plan to ease his physical distress. He needed to heal. If he didn’t heal, he would be forced to ask Ventress for help with the simplest of tasks. His body hurt too badly to do anything other than lay on the cot in throbbing agony.

“The best we have to work with are some wrap bandages and topical pain killers.”

Obi-Wan tried not to sigh aloud. “That’s not good.”

“Not good for _you_,” Ventress said. “I’m not nearly as injured as you are.” She tossed the bandages onto his cot. He made no move to take them. She groaned, unimpressed, and put what she deemed not necessary for their use back into the medical container. “I’m not your personal healer, Kenobi.”

Obi-Wan glared half-heartedly at her. “Did I ask you to care for me?”

“You’re not caring for yourself.”

Obi-Wan relaxed on the cot despite his aching body. “A habit from my childhood I never grew out of, it seems.” Summoning the Force, he lifted the bandage and floated it to his less injured hand. He knew from his mental check-up that his wrist was badly injured, sprained for certain and possibly broken. It would need to be wrapped. Under Ventress’s hostile scrutiny, he carefully wrapped his wrist. He did a poor job of it. Ventress lunged forward, took the bandage and started over without a word or insult. He watched her wrap his wrist, silent himself and flinging no barbs at her. It would not do to return kindness, even reluctant kindness, with insults and pettiness.

An idea struck him. “Ventress, do you know how to heal injuries with the Force?”

She shot him a look of disgust. “I’m not going to heal you, Kenobi.” She fastened down the end of the bandage and climbed to her feet.

Obi-Wan feebly reached for her. “No, wait, I don’t need you to heal me!” She looked down at him but at least she wasn’t leaving. “I just might need to borrow some of your energy so that I could heal my other injuries. I know how to do it but I just—” He had no other choice but to admit his defenseless state. “I can’t right now. I’m a little less—” He flashed a small self-deprecating smile. “—spry than I thought.”

Ventress shifted her weight, uncomfortable with his request. “I don’t know how to do that.”

That surprised Obi-Wan. “To extend your energy to another?” All Jedi pupils are taught such skills.

She shook her head. “To use the Force for healing. I never learned.”

Obi-Wan slipped into the role of teacher as naturally as he slipped into the tunics he wore every day since he arrived at the Temple. “It’s a useful skill to know. The first thing you should do is—”

“If you already know how to do it, then why don’t you heal yourself now?”

He mustered a grin despite his cut lip. “As I said, I’m not usually this incapacitated.” She looked away in thought. _She’s considering it,_ he realized. He decided to press his luck with her civil mood. “I could teach you if you like.”

“So you could borrow my energy to heal yourself? Sorry, Kenobi, but I’m not letting you use me like that.”

Obi-Wan shook his head. “Both of us would benefit in this. You would be able to better help and protect yourself and I would be able to heal, yes.” She shook her head and turned away. “Ventress, please, think on it. Knowing how to heal yourself with the Force could mean the difference between life and death for a Jedi on their own.”

She finally turned back to him. “I’m no Jedi, as you very well know.”

He met her uncompromising gaze with one of compassion. “Not a Separatist, not a Jedi, and I’m starting to think that you’re no Sith either.”

It was the wrong thing to say. She screamed in rage as she flung out her hands. Obi-Wan crashed into the bulkhead behind him with a cry. As he quickly blacked out, he heard Ventress approach, her breaths harsh and uneven. He swore he heard her holding back sobs but couldn’t be sure as he slid into the welcome embrace of unconsciousness.

_Lightsabers hummed as they sliced through the air. A green blade demonstrated the movements only a moment ahead of the second blade of the student. Eager to learn and please, the apprentice swept the lightsaber in front of their body. First to the left, then the right, then finding the proper balance to flip backwards and land in the exact same spot of earth on their feet to present the ready stance that both opened and closed the warm-up kata. Master and Apprentice smiled at each other, both pleased by the fluid grace of the successful exercise. The Master planted an approving hand on his Apprentice’s shoulder. “Thank you, Master,” said the Apprentice, earning a smile from the long-haired Knight_.

Obi-Wan woke with a gasp. A dream? He closed his eyes, trying to summon the images more clearly. Vague impressions remained in his waking state, but he recalled two important things with certainty. The voice of the Apprentice was feminine and therefore not him. And therefore not a memory. The Master, while long-haired, did not sport the characteristic beard of Qui-Gon Jinn. The Knight could not possibly have been his departed Master. Had he experienced a vision? The more pressing matter was whether or not what he’d seen came from the past or from events yet to unfold?

The hum of a lightsaber drew him from his contemplation. With some effort, Obi-Wan pushed himself to the edge of the cot and got his feet on the ground. He managed to stand. He swayed on his feet until he could find his balance and then shakily, slowly followed the humming of the lightsaber to a nearby room. He kept close to the wall, running his hand along the cold metal just in case he needed it to support himself if he got a little more lightheaded than expected. Or if his legs collapsed beneath him.

He followed the sound of the lightsaber into a wide-open area of their cramped little vessel. He noted the table and bench shoved against one wall and anything else that might have originally been scattered throughout the room piled against another. The food stasis unit and countertop were left accessible out of necessity. Obi-Wan turned his attention to Ventress in the middle of the floor. Her eyes were closed. She moved with calm, fluid grace as she swept her lightsaber in precise movements, clearly habitual and drilled into the memory of her muscles from repetition. Obi-Wan tilted his head, surprised and interested to recognize the very familiar pattern. “That’s a Soresu kata.”

She finished the sequence with the ready position, her left arm extended forward and her right bent high to bring her lightsaber at eye level, horizontal and parallel to both her left arm and the floor. She slid her gaze to him. “It’s just a warm-up exercise.”

Obi-Wan shook his head. In the Jedi Order, he was not only regarded as a Master of Soresu, but _the_ Master of Soresu. He would know the katas for that particular lightsaber form in his sleep. “That’s a Jedi exercise, Ventress.” She lowered her blade and turned to him, bristling with irritation. He backed up a step. “It’s from the Soresu Lightsaber form. I’m quite familiar with it. That’s all I meant.”

Ventress inhaled sharply through her nose but said nothing. Her lightsaber hummed at her side.

Obi-Wan eyed her blade. “I would offer to spar but I’m not sure if you’d aim to kill me.”

Ventress rolled her eyes. “If I wanted you dead, do you think you’d even be on this ship still or that I would’ve patched you up?”

Obi-Wan raised his wrapped wrist with a sheepish grin. “Yes, well, point taken.”

Ventress turned away from him and raised her blade to the ready position. After finding proper balance in her footing, she began the kata again. Obi-Wan watched her form and movements with a Jedi Master’s critical eye. She made no mistakes. _What a Jedi she would have been had fate been different._ When she finished the kata again, he stepped forward into the open space she’d cleared in the room. “Have you ever practiced with a partner?”

The question took her off guard. She shot him a look he couldn’t place before she locked down her raw emotion behind one he knew intimately himself. Sadness. “Yes. But it was a long time ago.”

“Would you mind?” he asked, unhooking his lightsaber from his side but not igniting it. “I could do with the exercise, myself. And since we both know this kata—” He trailed off, allowing her the space to flee or stay.

She positioned herself parallel to him, raised her saber to the first ready position and flashed him a challenging grin. “From the first level?”

Obi-Wan couldn’t help but grin. The first level was taught to younglings just learning to wield their sabers. He’d mastered it over two decades ago. Ventress had certainly long mastered it as well if her proficiency in the later form she’d been practicing were anything to go by. He powered up his lightsaber and took up position. “Are you starting me off gently?”

Ventress snorted and nodded to his injured wrist. “I figured with your fragile state you shouldn’t exert yourself.”

It actually hurt a little to roll his eyes thanks to the bruising around one. “It’s not like I’ve never fought while injured before.” They began the first level kata together. “I’ll have you know that I fought with two broken ribs and a dislocated pelvis on Geonosis.”

Their lightsabers sliced through the air. “No need to brag, Kenobi. As I said, I’d rather deliver you to Coruscant alive than dead.”

They twisted to face the opposite direction, their blades flying around them in a shield of defense as they changed position. “Lucky for me, then.” As they wordlessly agreed to progress to the second level, Obi-Wan observed her through a teacher’s eyes. Her form was tight, controlled. Performing this kata, Ventress showed none of the rage she always did when her lightsabers flashed to life. She looked calm, at peace, passive. _Like a Jedi. _“How did you come to learn a Soresu kata?”

Her rhythm and pace didn’t change. “My Master.”

Obi-Wan nearly fell off-balance. “Dooku taught you Jedi saber technique?”

Something sparked in Ventress’s focused eyes. “My _first_ Master.”

He heard her irritation, but his curiosity wouldn’t let him rest until he had some answers. “And who was your first Master?”

Ventress spun toward him sharply with a shout from deep in her throat. Obi-Wan barely managed to bring his lightsaber up to block the strike she aimed at his upper arm. She pulled back and attacked again, pushing Obi-Wan back. “Does it matter, Kenobi?” she said through clenched teeth. “He died years ago!”

Obi-Wan used his blade to shove her away. “Who was he?” he shouted.

Ventess’s rage spiked and she ignited her second blade before she struck. Obi-Wan parried. “Ky Narec! He found me and trained me until I was fourteen!”

Obi-Wan blocked another strike but their blades stayed together, hissing like angry snakes. He kept eye contact with her, looking for a tell of her next attack. Only he recognized something else in her eyes, something unexpected. The source of what fed her rage: grief. Then he knew what had happened when Ventress had been fourteen. “He died.”

Ventress cried out and swept his legs out from under him with her foot. Obi-Wan fell to the deck hard with a cry of pain, his healing ribs not yet up to being thrown about again. She planted her foot on his arm, stopping him from raising his lightsaber. He froze as the tip of her blade hovered just short of his throat. The other she angled directly at his heart. “They shot him here.” She touched the saber to the tunic over his heart, burning the fabric there. Her face twisted grotesquely. “They took him from me. The only one to show me something other than cruelty. They had to pay. So I made them pay for his blood with his lightsaber.”

Her open hatred stunned him where he lay. As he looked up at her, Ventress’s face changed in Obi-Wan’s eyes. Her pale skin turned black and red with a taunting smirk playing at the lips. _Rage burned in his blood as he waited impatiently for the ray shield to fall. This monster had run his Master through. He’d struck him down and Qui-Gon Jinn lay near motionless only feet away from him. He hadn’t been able to help him or stop it. He looked at his opponent, this arrogant Zabrak. Obi-Wan might not have been able to prevent it, but he would avenge his Master. The ray shield deactivated and Obi-Wan raced forward, intent on killing this murderer and giving him as much mercy as he gave Qui-Gon. None. _

“I understand.”

Ventress roared, slashed Obi-Wan’s arm with one saber as she raised both of them high. Then she looked at the Jedi pinned beneath her. Tears swam in his eyes. At first, she thought from fear. But as she stood over him, poised to kill him in her agony, she saw something deeper in his eyes. Compassion and acceptance. She gasped, her arms shaking with indecision. How could he understand her pain? But something in his kind gaze gave her pause and she reconsidered. Maybe, somehow, he did understand. Her arms shook, torn between wanting to kill him and wanting to spare him. Obi-Wan said nothing to sway her decision either way. He only looked up at her. Ventress aborted a sob, dropped her lightsabers, and fled the room.

Obi-Wan lay motionless on the cold floor long after she left, silently reeling in relief, while tears trailed into his hair.

Ventress acknowledged his presence before he had a chance to change his mind about being there in the first place. “We’re about a day’s travel from Coruscant.”

He lingered in the back of the cockpit, uncertain if he should approach or stay as far away from her as possible. Considering the last time they were in the same space she’d almost killed him, Obi-Wan chose to err on the side of caution. “That’s good news.”

She sighed. “So calm down, Kenobi. You’re almost home to your precious Temple.”

He crossed his arms over his chest, cradling his tender ribs, still undecided if he should stay or leave. The silence stifled them the longer it continued. And it continued for what felt like a quarter of an hour, when in reality, it had been only five minutes. Both of them struggled with something to say or whether nothing should be said at all. Just as Obi-Wan turned to leave and give Ventress some solitude, she spoke. Though soft and quiet, her voice carried to him with ease. “You can’t possibly understand how I feel. Your master never left you.”

Obi-Wan swallowed the lump in his throat as memories of over ten years ago flashed instantaneously through his mind. He faced the pilot’s seat and met her eyes in the reflection of the viewport. “Yes he did. He died.”

She spun the chair to face him. “Not the same thing.”

He leaned his weight against the wall, refusing to get within reach of her lightsabers so soon again. “He abandoned me for another. I was still his Padawan at the time, but my Master already decided to leave me. I wasn’t ready for my Trials, but he cast me aside, left me. And as he lay dying a few days later, my Master charged me to train the boy he’d claimed over me.”

“You mean…Skywalker?” Ventress asked, her disapproval clear in her grimace.

He half-heartedly smiled. “This surprises you.”

He could see her work through the scenario mentally. “You didn’t want to train him.” She nodded. “Can’t say I blame you.”

Obi-Wan stiffened. “I never said that. I just—” He struggled for the most accurate words. “I wasn’t ready to train him.”

“Semantics, Kenobi.” She leaned forward in the chair. “Whether you didn’t want to train him, or you weren’t ready to train anyone at all, goes to the same end result of you not wanting to train Skywalker.” She sensed her accuracy in how Obi-Wan’s lazy relaxed posture on the wall went abruptly rigid. She nodded pointedly at him. “That was your situation. You didn’t want to do it whether or not Skywalker was in the picture.” She gazed expectantly at him. “I’m right, aren’t I?”

Obi-Wan took in her words and thought hard on them before he replied. He sighed. “You’re not exactly wrong.” She smiled, pleased. He grinned back at her, though his tiredness overshadowed any teasing their banter usually included. “But that doesn’t mean you’re exactly right either.”

She frowned but tilted her head to the side, unimpressed by his obfuscation. “Then, the question is whose point of view are we taking? Mine or yours?”

Obi-Wan dropped his gaze. What possessed him to tell her all of that? He shook his head at himself. He was tired and that impaired his better judgment. He had no argument for her question anyway. “I need to rest,” he said. He left the cockpit, not even pretending to have the energy to debate with Ventress. Perhaps he would be in better form once he’d healed further and rested both body and spirit.

“I expected that by now you would have found a way to change our course to deliver me to Dooku as a hostage,” Obi-Wan said with forced optimism, as he scrounged up something for them to eat. His search proved mostly unsuccessful, the poorly stocked vessel yielding only a well-used tin of stale biscuits,

Ventress had slightly better luck. She watched him go through containers and supply cabinets as she leisurely waited for her concoction to finish brewing. “I want nothing to do with Dooku anymore except wanting him dead,” she said, pouring what passed for caf into two cups and handing one to Obi-Wan.

It wasn’t what he expected her to say at all. Unwilling to accidentally ask about a topic that could result in sending her into a rage and end up being attacked for it again, Obi-Wan decided to ignore that comment for the time being. He may be curious as to why she wanted her Sith Master dead, but he resisted asking about it directly, despite the promise of a very interesting story. He sipped the caf and grimaced at the taste. “Dark and bitter, just like you.”

Ventress scoffed into her cup before taking a sip herself. “Please, Kenobi, as if I don’t have very good reasons to be bitter.” She slid onto the bench at the small table.

He saw her bravado seep from her body as soon as she sat down and stared into her cup. Approaching her carefully, he lowered himself into the seat across from her. He moved slowly so as not to alarm her and have her lash out in self-defense of a threat he didn’t mean to imply. He said nothing to her. This time, rather than push her for answers, he would wait for her to speak. Whenever he pushed her, she reacted to protect herself. He decided that it might be best to let her come to him with this. If she did not, then he decided he would have to make peace with never knowing the answers to his questions. They sat and sipped their potent caf and nibbled stale biscuits for almost twenty minutes before the silence broke.

“I’d hoped to put something right when I came here.” Obi-Wan had no idea what she meant. “Just collect the bounty for him and that would be the end of it, with a nice pile of credits to my name for the trouble.”

She said nothing else, just stared into her caf. Obi-Wan decided to prompt her just a little with his best guess. “I didn’t know there was a bounty out for Dooku.”

She shook her head. “Not Dooku. On Savage.”

Obi-Wan covered his surprise with a sip of caf. She must mean Darth Maul’s hulking companion, the one who’d thrown him around the cargo bay for Maul’s enjoyment. The one who’d stormed the Temple of Eedit on Devaron and ruthlessly slaughtered Master Halsey and Padawan Knox. _This is not the work of a Sith Lord or a Jedi, but a reckless, impulsive animal._ He recalled saying this when their bodies were brought back to the Temple. Having now encountered this vicious Zabrak in person, Obi-Wan’s opinion hadn’t exactly changed. Savage was a merciless animal. “Couldn’t you have brought some battle droids with you to help?”

She sighed, but her usual hostility wasn’t in it. “Weren’t you listening? I’m not a Separatist anymore. If I was going to get Savage, I’d have to do it myself. Besides,” she said with a shrug and a quick sip of caf. “I need the credits.”

If she were on her own entirely, he could understand how she would need the bounty to survive in the galaxy. But… “Why such a dangerous target? Couldn’t you have gotten a few jobs to equal the bounty for him?”

She reluctantly answered. “Because I’m the reason he exists.” She looked at him, whether to see his surprised reaction to that revelation or to seek forgiveness, he couldn’t tell. Did she know what Savage had done against the Jedi? He didn’t know if she did. Whatever she wanted to see in his reaction, she didn’t get it. She swirled her caf in her cup. “I chose him from the Nightbrothers Clan and brought him to Mother Talzin to make him into a weapon I could control and use against Dooku. But he was weak. He failed me and Dooku is far out of my reach. They both are now.”

“What did Dooku do to you that was so terrible?”

She stared at Obi-Wan’s hands folded around his cup but she didn’t see them. Her eyes were far away, reliving past events. She answered as though in a daze. “He ordered my assassination. Commanded his forces to fire on me to kill me.” She was about to continue, to tell him of how she led Savage right to Dooku’s side so that he could murder her former master, and how everything went wrong when Dooku learned of her treachery. In revenge, he’d ordered General Grievous to destroy the Nightsisters, her shelter and family when she had no one else left. But the words never reached her throat because Obi-Wan spoke first.

“That doesn’t sound like Dooku.” Obi-Wan couldn’t believe it.

“And how would you know?”

He answered instinctively. “Because he also trained my Master.”

“Oh.” Ventress studied him with a new perspective. Clearly Dooku had not shared those pieces of his personal history with her during their time together.

Obi-Wan took advantage of her surprise and thought about her question. He knew that Dooku had done terrible things, ordered terrible things done, but to do it himself wasn’t in his nature. Even during his capture on Geonosis all those years ago, Dooku did not take part in Obi-Wan’s interrogation, torture, or execution. _Though he did stand by and watch me tied to a pole as an offering to those humungous monsters. _Even when they’d fought later that day in the hangar, Dooku refused to kill him. Toyed with him, certainly, but he hadn’t struck him with the intent to kill. The only moment Obi-Wan thought Dooku might have been about to kill him was right before Anakin leaped to his defense and blocked Dooku’s downward strike while Obi-Wan lay wounded on the ground. But to outright murder someone? Especially someone he’d trained himself? “It’s not exactly Dooku’s style to assassinate anyone,” he finally said. “He’s more of a maneuverer and will have someone else do the work for him. He’s fastidious, as you probably well know and doesn’t like to—”

“Get his hands dirty,” she said, a sly smile playing at her lips.

Obi-Wan laughed. Who would have thought they would agree on Dooku’s behavioral tendencies of all things? “Right. Precisely.”

The easy moment didn’t last and faded into the former state of uncomfortable silence. Ventress gripped the cup tightly, trying to control her turbulent emotions. Obi-Wan watched as sadness and anger and grief and guilt all twisted her features one after the other. He didn’t dare reach out to her physically, but he took another risk from his position across the table from her. “Ventress, whatever his reasons for ordering your death, the Force disagreed and wanted you to live for a reason.” She drew in a sharp breath and glared at him. He pressed on. “Don’t waste your life seeking revenge that you may never get.”

Ventress slammed a fist on the table. “Dooku deserves to pay for what he did to me, what I became because of him,” she declared, her voice calm but lethal.

Obi-Wan tried to calm her rage before it exploded again. “And I’m certain that before this war ends, someone _will_ make him pay for all of his crimes. But that someone does not have to be you.” He took encouragement from the fact that she listened to him despite her body being coiled and ready to spring into an attack. “Ventress,” he said, gently, “you have a life to live. Make the most of it for yourself. If Dooku decided that you were no longer important to his life, why are you choosing to make him the focal point of yours?”

She surged to her feet and leaned over the table as she screamed, “Because I have nothing else left!” Her eyes stabbed him like her twin lightsabers. “You can’t imagine what that feels like, Kenobi. And you never will.” She turned and stormed away into another section of their vessel.

Obi-Wan watched her leave, saddened for her and the perspective she held of herself. _You have so much more than you realize._ He hoped that she would see it in time, and for her sake, sooner rather than later.

They opened their eyes and separated their connection which enabled Obi-Wan to borrow some of Ventress’s energy to speed his healing. “Thank you,” he said, rolling up the bandage from his arm. He stretched the muscles in his arm, made a fist and released it. He grinned in satisfaction. “That helped a great deal.” He looked up and saw her watching him, fascinated by the energy transfer process.

“Who taught you how to do that?”

Obi-Wan smiled fondly. “My Master. It was after a mission in which I spent a good amount of time injured with a broken leg. I couldn’t walk, nevermind run, from those who hunted us. My Master carried me for two days but it drained him and we didn’t make as much progress as we should have had I been uninjured or knew how to heal myself faster.” He stretched his back and heard the pop of his spine as he twisted. He groaned. “As soon as we left the planet, he taught me how to use the Force to heal.”

Ventress nodded. She’d listened so closely to his brief story that it reminded Obi-Wan of attentive Younglings at the Temple eager for stories of missions and adventures from any Knight or Master who would tell them such tales. Obi-Wan regretted that Ventress’s path had taken her away from experiencing the family and bonds between other Jedi. _Things could have been so different for her._ If only some things hadn’t happened the way they did, some choices made differently. “Sometimes I wish another Master found me and chose to train me,” she admitted.

Her eyes darted up to Obi-Wan’s and the shock in them told him that she hadn’t meant to say that out loud. Obi-Wan scrambled to find something to say to that. He blurted out the first thing that came to mind. “At least you were chosen by your Master.” _What?_ He knew he looked just as surprised by his words as she had a moment ago. They looked at each other, at the crossroads of an unexpected vulnerability neither intended to share but did. Desperate to stumble through his own misstep to something salvageable, Obi-Wan kept talking, saying the first thing to avoid an awkward silence from blanketing them. “I was never chosen for anything. Master Narec chose you, and then Dooku wanted you as an apprentice. That is much more than I can say. My Master didn’t choose me. He didn’t even want me. I had to fight for his attention, prove worthy of his teaching, and convince him to apprentice me. You were much luckier than I was in being chosen by a Master.”

Ventress shook her head. “But my Masters left me, abandoned me. Yours didn’t.”

“Yes, he did.” _I will train him then. I take Anakin as my Padawan Learner. _The pain of those words struck Obi-Wan through his heart as though Qui-Gon just said them in the Council Chamber. “My Master chose a new apprentice while I was still his Padawan. He essentially repudiated me and cast me aside in front of the Council. Perhaps I wasn’t worthy of his teaching from the beginning.” He hadn’t meant to reveal these insecurities to Ventress, of all people. He glanced at her, seeing interest in what he said, but surprisingly no judgment of his history.

He shook his head as his memories replayed in his head. “I wasn’t Anakin’s first choice for a Master.” Ventress tilted her head. Something he said didn’t make complete sense to her. Obi-Wan quickly pieced together the missing pieces. “My Master dismissed me for Anakin and he wanted Qui-Gon’s training, not mine.” Ventress nodded, understanding the players of the story. “But my Master was—” He swallowed the pain of the memory and the lump in his throat it always brought him. “—killed, murdered, and I promised him that I would train Anakin in his stead. I did the best I could.”

Obi-Wan found a smile as he continued. “After Anakin was Knighted, I requested the honor of training another Padawan. I had my eyes on one particular Initiate and had hoped the Council would assign us together.” His smile faded. “But I was not chosen again and the one I’d hoped to train had no idea that I’d chosen her because the Council decided that Anakin should be her Master instead of me.”

Ventress leaned back in her chair, comprehension dawning. “That little Togruta girl? You wanted her?”

“I did.” Obi-Wan smiled, his eyes brightened with fondness and pride. “And even though I’m not her Master, I’m pleased to be a part of her training on occasion.”

Ventress shook her head slowly as she examined him with her eyes. “You can lie to yourself, Kenobi, but you can’t lie to me.”

Obi-Wan returned her stare, challenging her to state where exactly he’d lied to her. Ventress arched an eyebrow and maintained eye contact. She didn’t back down. Obi-Wan did. As much as he didn’t wish to admit it, Ventress was right. He had wanted to train Ahsoka Tano himself, and some small part of him simmered in bitterness of being dismissed and overlooked by the Council as her Master, particularly after having specifically requested to train her. He smiled tightly and gave her a sharp nod in acknowledgment of her opinion. “It doesn’t seem like I can anymore, does it?”

They both looked away from each other and turned their attention on anything else. The wall, their own hands, the door. The mood grew more and more awkward by the second, neither of them sure what to do or say to regain the level of understanding and the tentative truce between them. Ventress stood and hurried with purpose to the doorway. “I’ll make something to eat. Don’t move,” she threw over her shoulder before disappearing.

Obi-Wan exhaled, relieved that the tension left the room with her. He needed the time she would be gone to gather his thoughts and reclaim a measure of serenity. He didn’t think he would’ve been able to continue their conversation anyway had she remained. Some things should never have been said. Some truths should never have been shared. “I’m sorry,” he said to those too far from him to hear it.

“If I want to have a hope of resupply and getting off this planet in one piece,” Ventress said in a voice that one used on someone who refused to listen, “then the Jedi Temple is the very last place I should land this ship.”

“Well, I think the Senate would be a poor choice for you, too,” Obi-Wan quipped without missing a beat. “I’m sure they wouldn’t hesitate to take you into custody if you landed there.”

The look she turned on him was both unimpressed and disgusted. “Your Jedi will arrest me.”

“No, they won’t.”

“For the same reason we’re not landing at the Senate. I’m listed as a wanted Separatist.”

Obi-Wan faced her head on. “Who’s just saved the life of a Jedi Master and Republic General and is returning him home unharmed and without any ransom demanded for it. That will not go unnoticed and will be taken into consideration when we land.”

They stubbornly glared at each other, Obi-Wan with his arms cross over his chest while Ventress’s hands twitched over her lightsaber hilts at her hips. The ship drifted closer to the Jedi Temple on the autopilot Obi-Wan had locked into its navigation systems with every second. Its occupants drifted no closer to an agreement, neither of them wanting to give in on their position. “Ventress,” Obi-Wan implored, softly. “Please trust me.”

Her eyes narrowed suspiciously. “Trust is overrated.”

Obi-Wan met her gaze calmly. “Trusting the wrong person is dangerous in this political climate, perhaps, but it’s hardly overrated.” He nodded to her hands at her lightsabers. “Had I not trusted you in the cargo hold of this ship, I have no doubt that I would be very much dead by now.” He raised his gaze back to find her eyes. “You have to trust _me_ now.”

Ventress gazed out the viewport. The Jedi Temple grew and dominated her view the nearer they approached it. This massive building could have been her home had things been different. She looked back at Obi-Wan. Unlike her, he didn’t watch their approach of the Temple, of his home. He watched her instead, clearly trying to read her emotions in her face. His lips twitched in the shadow of a gentle, encouraging smile. “No harm will come to you. I promise.”

She bared her teeth in a snarl as she stabbed her finger at a button on the ship’s console. “Call your Temple, then, Kenobi,” she growled. “But if they arrest me, no amount of Force Healing will save you when we meet again.”

Obi-Wan tried to hold back his amusement but failed. “I would expect nothing less of you, my sweet.” As he established contact with the Temple, Ventress scoffed and stormed from the cockpit. Obi-Wan chuckled to himself until he finally got through to Mace Windu.

“You told me no harm would come to me!”

Obi-Wan stared at his wrist comm, for a moment not comprehending how they were speaking on that frequency. “Ventress? How did you—”

“You told me the Jedi would leave me alone!”

How she got his personal frequency didn’t matter anymore. “We _have_ left you alone!”

“Then why did one of your precious Order just attack me in an alley after I left your almost-Padawan at a warehouse?” she shouted through the comlink.

“You’ve seen Ahsoka?” Hope sparked in his heart with a burst of happiness. “Is she alright? And why did you leave her at a—”

Her snarl came through loud and clear. “She’s fine last I saw her and investigating to prove she’s not the criminal you’re looking for.” He released a breath he hadn’t known he’d been holding. Relief coursed through him. Ahsoka was okay. She wasn’t captured. But she was still running and still considered a fugitive. He opened his mouth to ask another question, but Ventress beat him to speaking. “She also had some knowledge about Dooku wanting me dead. I wonder how she came by that information. Could it be a Jedi Master named Obi-Wan Kenobi couldn’t keep his trap shut when it comes to personal stories shared in confidence? Who else knows, the entire Jedi Order?” Obi-Wan winced as her voice grew louder with each word until she shrieked them through the comlink. She cleared her throat. “But I didn’t call you to exchange gossip. I still want to know why a Jedi just attacked me!”

Right. This was the topic she wanted to discuss. “How do you know it was a Jedi?”

He could practically hear her eyes rolling. “Do you think just anyone can surprise me?” He nodded, conceding that point. “Who was it?”

Ventress demanded an answer that Obi-Wan simply didn’t have. “I don’t know.”

“You’re on the karking Council, Kenobi!” He winced again, knowing that had they stood face to face they would have been exchanging physical blows on top of the verbal ones. “You know all that goes on in Jedi business! Who attacked me?”

Obi-Wan collapsed onto the nearest flat surface, exhausted emotionally and without any energy left to fight. “Ventress, I give you my word, no one ordered you followed or captured, and certainly not attacked.”

His reassurance did not have the intended effect. “Because of this Jedi I have no weapons! They took my lightsabers!” Her voice lowered dangerously, threateningly. “I want them back.”

Obi-Wan closed his eyes with a sigh. “That may be beyond my powers to grant.”

It didn’t matter. Ventress refused to hear him. “I want them back, Kenobi. Find them! Search every Jedi in the Temple and on the planet if you have to! Contact me when you have them!”

“Ventress!”

It didn’t matter what he would have said. She’d already disconnected.

_How did we come to this?_ Obi-Wan wondered as he stood in the corridor during a recess of Ahsoka’s Trial. His eyes found the small cluster of his fellow Jedi speaking in hushed voices where they’d gathered along one wall. Obi-Wan did not join them. He’d watched the initial proceedings and found himself spiraling in confused and helpless thoughts. Everything that brought him to this point in the Galactic Courts happened so quickly that he could barely remember the details.

Not all of them anyway.

_“Your Padawan status will be stripped from you. Henceforth, you are barred from the Jedi Order.” _

He didn’t think he would ever forget those words. Words that had come so close to being delivered to himself as a teenager after he left the Jedi Order to help a group of children called The Young bring peace to their world of Medlia/Daan. A decision he regretted making almost the moment he drew his lightsaber on his own Master in his demand to stay and help them. Qui-Gon Jinn had left him behind on that war-torn planet. When he returned to Coruscant and to the Jedi, Obi-Wan anxiously waited for his expulsion, but instead he’d been given probation. In time, he was fully welcomed back into the Order by both Qui-Gon and the Council.

No such kindness had been extended to Ahsoka Tano. _How did we come to this?_ Everything felt wrong, tainted by the Dark Side, but not Ahsoka.

The Council hadn’t even allowed Ahsoka to defend herself, nor did they permit her Master to speak on her behalf. He wished he’d told Anakin that he was right, that the Council had already made a decision as to Ahsoka’s fate before they’d even entered the room. _“Reached a decision we have, though not in total agreement are we,”_ Yoda had told Ahsoka and Anakin in the Chamber of Judgment. Obi-Wan couldn’t even speak during the proceeding without feeling like he would vomit before he uttered a word. The nausea only increased with every word the other Council Members spoke and all he could do was stare down at his Grandpadawan in anguish and apology knowing it would never be enough. He shared Anakin’s anger and horror at the Council’s declared judgment on Ahsoka. He had been one of only three Masters on the Council to vote against Ahsoka’s expulsion. Obi-Wan wished he could tell her that he fought for her, tried to defend her. That he believed her.

But what good would it do now? Ahsoka wouldn’t listen, wouldn’t care, and neither would Anakin. Neither of them would listen in their states. Obi-Wan didn’t fault them for that. He remembered that he hadn’t listened to anyone’s pointless platitudes and condolences when Qui-Gon died. Having a Padawan expelled from the Order essentially was a death sentence to a young former Jedi. An expelled Padawan would be cast out, having suddenly and solely to fend for themselves without aid or guidance. She would be stricken from all Jedi records. Not even those who voluntarily left the Order, like Dooku, were treated as harshly. A statue of him still stood in the Jedi Archives. There would be nothing left behind of Ahsoka Tano except the memory of her in the minds and hearts of those who knew her.

Until this situation spiraled out of control, Obi-Wan hadn’t truly appreciated how, during his probationary period, Qui-Gon advocated for him to remain in the Order if the Council denied his petition to reclaim him as his Padawan. Obi-Wan stroked the silka beads of Ahsoka’s Padawan braid. He’d demanded it from the Temple Guards after they ripped it from her. He didn’t know why he’d gone after it. Was he clinging to the fragile hope that she would not be found guilty by the Republic Courts and it could be returned to her? Or did he want it to keep it as a scar of his failure in looking after her, for not advocating for her as fiercely as Qui-Gon had for him?

As Anakin should be advocating for his Padawan.

_Where is Anakin?_ Obi-Wan raised his wrist com . “Anakin!” He tried again. “Anakin, where are you? Ahsoka’s on trial and you aren’t—where are you?” No response. Obi-Wan’s nausea climbed in his throat again.

He’d called Padmé Amidala as soon as Yoda ordered Anakin and Ahsoka called to the Chamber of Judgment. Admiral Tarkin advised using someone from outside of the Jedi Order to represent Ahsoka in the Republic Courts. Obi-Wan leaped to contact the brightest mind he knew. He gave her a quick explanation of the situation and she reassured him that she was qualified to defend Ahsoka with her knowledge of court procedure and law. _“Thank you, Senator.”_

_“I don’t want to give you false hope, Master Kenobi. This all may come to nothing. Justice is…not what it once was in the Republic. Whatever happened to innocent until proven guilty? It seems things are the opposite now.”_ With those words, Obi-Wan’s brittle hope for Ahsoka’s safe return broke a little bit more.

His wrist com chirped and he raised his arm. “Anakin! Where are you?”

“Did you really send Skywalker after me?”

Ventress. She was not the one he wanted to talk to, but Anakin clearly wouldn’t be contacting him at the moment. Obi-Wan sighed. “No, Ventress, I swear to you that—”

“Save it for someone who’ll believe you, Kenobi,” she cut in sharply. “Anakin Skywalker strangled me near to death because he thought I framed his little Padawan. I didn’t.”

“I’m surprised but grateful you’re still alive, but I do apologize on his behalf for your treatment.” He hesitated to ask, “Is he still there with you?”

“No.” Obi-Wan frowned at that. _Where was Anakin?_ “But I pointed him in a different direction in his efforts to find the real criminal behind this.”

Obi-Wan drew back and stared at his wrist com in disbelief even though she couldn’t see him. “And how would you know that information?”

“Because, as I said to you before, whoever attacked me took my lightsabers. The one responsible for all of this will have them.”

“But why would they frame Ahsoka? She had nothing to do with any of this. She wasn’t even at the Temple, or on Coruscant, when the Temple was bombed.”

Ventress’s voice turned hoarse, but Obi-Wan couldn’t tell if it were from her recent strangulation or from emotions tightening her voice. This entire situation strangled Obi-Wan the longer it went on. Perhaps Ventress could sense the unease, the wrongness, of all of this too. “Because she’s a Jedi that knows too much. Someone wants her dead.”

_Or perhaps just out of the way,_ Obi-Wan thought. “Who?”

“My bet would be Skywalker.” Obi-Wan reeled at the suggestion. “You didn’t see him when he came at us with your clones. He didn’t look like a worried Master. He looked like a threat to her.” Obi-Wan couldn’t believe it. He wouldn’t believe it. “What kind of Master orchestrates a hunt for his own apprentice? One that doesn’t want her alive.”

Obi-Wan clenched his eyes, unwilling to listen to this and take it into his mind as the truth. He couldn’t accept this. She’s had to be speaking of Dooku and how he ordered her death. This was coming from her own pain. No. Dooku and Anakin shared no similarities. _Except they both love their Padawans._ He shook his head against the thought, banishing it from his mind. No. Ventress was still wounded, scarred, from Dooku’s betrayal. _Anakin would never betray the Jedi or his Padawan._ _He would never betray Ahsoka. Never._

A gentle bell sounded in the corridor. Ahsoka’s trial would continue. And Anakin still hadn’t shown up. “I have to go back into the trial, Ventress.”

“Tell me when my lightsabers surface.”

Obi-Wan nodded at his com. “For now, I’m afraid the search continues.”

She huffed. “Of course it does. But let’s hope Skywalker finds them before your little Padawan is convicted for something we both know she didn’t do. Too bad she lost all support with your precious Jedi Order abandoning her when she needed you the most. You convicted her the moment you treated her like a fugitive and hunted her down.”

She disconnected. A weight settled in Obi-Wan stomach as he stared at his wrist com. He watched as Plo Koon, Mace Windu, Ki-Adi-Mundi, and Yoda all stoically reentered the court. Were they effected by any of this at all? Obi-Wan forced himself towards the door. He took his seat and gazed down at Ahsoka, standing alone, her shoulders weighed down with the hopelessness of someone surrounded by enemies on all sides.

Obi-Wan swallowed the bile rising in his throat, feeling more and more sick and helpless. What kind of a Jedi, Councilor, and Grandmaster was he if he couldn’t protect his Grandpadawan from penalization for crimes he knew she didn’t commit? He blinked back tears.

_How did it come to this?_

The hours following the surprising conclusion of Ahsoka Tano’s trial stifled the Jedi Council with uneasiness and regret. Only the three who had voted against Ahsoka’s expulsion stood a little sturdier than the rest of them. Obi-Wan hadn’t said a word to anyone following the trial. He only nodded as Master Yoda called a session for the Council and summoned Anakin before them. As they all took their seats in the circular room, Obi-Wan struggled to understand how someone could frame their closest friend for murder and treason. Anakin bursting into the trial with Padawan Barriss Offee to confess to the crimes Ahsoka stood accused of and to framing her friend in her place boggled everyone’s minds. _How must Luminara be feeling now?_ Obi-Wan heart ached for her. How would he feel if Anakin were to betray him? Words could not describe what he would feel in that situation. He couldn’t even imagine Anakin betraying him. _He wouldn’t. He couldn’t do that._

Uncharacteristically, the Jedi Council waited in silence for the arrival of Anakin Skywalker. Usually there would be discussion before someone came before them, but not that day. Too much had happened. Obi-Wan took advantage of the silence to meditate on the end of Ahsoka’s Trial and Barriss’s impassioned statement.

_“We’ve so lost our way that we’ve become villains in this conflict. And my attack on the Temple was an attack on what the Jedi have become, an army fighting for the dark side, fallen from the light that we once held so dear.” _

Obi-Wan opened his eyes and ran them across the gathered members of the Council. All of them looked as disturbed as he felt. Perhaps they’d meditated on the same thing. “Master Yoda,” he said and waited for the ancient Jedi to look at him. “Do you think there is truth to what Padawan Offee said? That we’ve become an army for the Dark Side and lost our way and our light?”

Silence lingered in the Council Chamber as all of the Masters withdrew into themselves in contemplation of Obi-Wan’s question. “The Dark Side clouds everything, Master Obi-Wan. Overshadowing us, it may be.”

Plo Koon slumped in his seat, with his clawed hands neglecting their typical clasped position. Instead, they rested on the arms of his chair. “We made a grave mistake in accusing Ahsoka, to say nothing of her expulsion. We were—” He waved one hand as he searched for the word. “Wrong.”

“Blinded we were,” Yoda agreed.

“But that still doesn’t answer my question, Master,” Obi-Wan said. “What if, during this War, we have become an army for the Dark Side?”

Mace Windu leaned forward in his seat. But at that moment the doors to the Council Chamber parted and Anakin Skywalker strode to the center of the room and executed a quick bow. “Masters,” he began without waiting for acknowledgment. “The discovery of Barriss Offee’s betrayal is a surprise to us all. But I’d be lying if I were to say that I’m not relieved that my Padawan was found innocent at her expense.”

“Discover the criminal was Padawan Offee, how did you?” Yoda asked.

Anakin held out two lightsabers for the Council’s inspection. The twin hilts were curved. “I found these in her possession. They belong to Asajj Ventress. Barriss attacked her after Ventress helped Ahsoka and took the lightsabers from her. That was why Ahsoka thought Ventress attacked her in the warehouse. When I found Ventress, she explained about her attacker taking them and that they were the key to finding out who the real person was behind all of this.”

Obi-Wan stood and held out his hand as he approached. “May I?”

Anakin handed them over. Obi-Wan inspected them, though it wasn’t necessary. “They’re Ventress’s,” he confirmed.

“So the real traitor was found,” Mace Windu summarized. “And we thank you for that, Skywalker. However, there’s one matter we need to discuss. Ahsoka Tano was expelled from the Jedi Order and therefore not your Padawan.”

Obi-Wan watched Anakin bristle at his side in barely-controlled rage. Obi-Wan gently gripped his forearm and told him with only a gaze to stand down. _You are my Padawan, Obi-Wan, I do not need the Council to tell me so._ Obi-Wan smiled as his Master’s words came back to him. He knew the only course to take. “Welcome her back into the Order. She is Anakin’s Padawan and she never should have been expelled in the first place. We failed to protect her. That is not her fault nor should she bear the burden of our mistake.”

“I agree with Master Kenobi,” Plo Koon said immediately. “We have wronged her.”

Anakin turned to Obi-Wan, relief and gratitude in his eyes. Obi-Wan offered him a hesitant smile. He reached into his robes and pulled out the chain of silka beads. Ahsoka’s Padawan braid. “I think her Master should present this to her when she is welcomed back.”

Anakin took the beads reverently. He studied them in his palm, silent in voice yet whirling with emotion. “Thank you, Master.”

Obi-Wan smiled at him again. He’d been given a second chance as a Padawan. That his Grandpadawan would be given the same courtesy eased his troubled heart. “Then let’s summon your Padawan,” he said, flashing a cheeky grin as he added, “My Padawan.”

Obi-Wan escorted Anakin from the Council Chamber and onto an observation balcony. As Anakin went to the farthest rail to contact Ahsoka, Obi-Wan raised his wrist com to make a call of his own.

“Yes?”

“Your lightsabers have been recovered.”

He could almost feel her relief through the comlink. “I want them.”

“We shall have to meet somewhere discreet. I can’t exactly be seen with a wanted Separatist—”

“I prefer the term bounty hunter now.”

He rolled his eyes and corrected himself. “Bounty hunter, then, and handing over dangerous, confiscated weapons.”

She paused for a moment. Obi-Wan kept his eyes on Anakin the entire time, ready to cut the conversation short if he started back towards him. “Do you know the Outlander Club?”

Obi-Wan smiled. It was the very location where he and Anakin had chased a certain changeling bounty hunter after she’d failed to assassinate Padmé Amidala. It seemed a lifetime ago. “I do.”

“I’ll be there in one hour.” She cut their connection. It no longer surprised Obi-Wan.

“I’ll see you there, then,” he said to no one. At that moment, Anakin turned back to him with a smile.

He waited in the darkest corner of the Outlander Club he could find. The bright lights and the screens throughout the club lit the place well, but there were still a few sparse nooks and crannies available for those who didn’t want to meet in direct light. Obi-Wan sat in the seat nearest the wall, with a clear view of the entrance. He shrouded his body in his brown Jedi cloak and shadowed his face with the hood. In one hand he held a neon blue concoction, not his normal intoxicant but it would do for the moment. By the end of the night he might need a considerable amount of them in his system just to lessen the ache in his heart. He’d already downed two glasses of it.

Ventress slid into the high-raised chair across from him. “I see you started without me.” She raised a pale hand and a server droid wheeled over to their table. Ventress pointed to Obi-Wan’s drink. “Three more of those.” The droid speeded away.

Without her prompting him, Obi-Wan set her lightsabers on the table. He said nothing.

Ventress weighed them in her hands before clipping them at her hips. “Alright, Kenobi, what’s got your lightsaber in a twist?” The droid set the requested drinks on the table between the two of them and buzzed away. Ventress sipped from the nearest glass.

_“I’m sorry, Master, but I’m not coming back.”_

Obi-Wan’s breath hitched. He tossed back his drink. The dull sound as he set it back on the table filled Ventress with dread. He lifted his eyes to hers and she drew back at the sight of barely contained tears. “Ahsoka left the Order.” He breathed deeply through his nose. “We—Anakin—welcomed her back but she refused. She left.”

Ventress leaned back, stunned but also a little impressed. “Well, well, the little Padawan has some integrity after all.” Obi-Wan frowned at her. He didn’t understand. Ventress swirled her drink in the glass. “What did you expect? That just because you obediently crawled back to the Order after your Master disowned you, that she would do the same? Not everyone has so little self-respect as you, my dear Obi-Wan.”

He flinched as her words stung him. He lowered his eyes, unable to stand looking at her proud face. How could Ventress be proud of Ahsoka when all ObiWan could feel was stomach-churning worry and guilt? “We made terrible mistakes with handling her situation and the accusations against her. She deserved better than this. We failed her.”

Ventress replied instantly. “Yes, you did.”

He choked down another drink. But the liquid did nothing to stop his words from pouring out of him. “And now she’s alone, with nothing and no one to guard her back when she’s always had Anakin, or me, or her squadron. She has nothing now and I have no idea where she plans to go or how she’ll support herself or even how to find her if she needs help.” He slumped into himself miserably, wrapping his robe tighter around his body. “If I ever hear that she’s been killed or worse, I don’t know what I’d do.”

Ventress held her glass loosely but didn’t raise it to drink. She watched as he curled further into himself, hugging himself, and hiding his face. He tried to stop his body from shaking, tried to stop himself from crumbling, but his efforts only made his trembling worse. A low, pained cry sounded deep in his chest. Ventress pushed the remaining drink closer to him to give him something to focus on instead of his own misery. It did enough of the trick. He froze and fastened his eyes on it.

Ventress leaned close to him and lowered her voice conspiratorially. “Well, I _am _a bounty hunter.” She waited until the sentence registered with Obi-Wan. He raised his watery eyes. “And with my skills, I can find almost anyone if I wanted to.” He inhaled sharply and hope shined in his eyes. “I could…keep an eye on her.” She allowed compassion to sneak into expression. After all, Obi-Wan Kenobi had treated her with honor, and even a former Sith like her still possessed some of that. She could admit that, after all this time, they just might have reached a point of mutual respect. “For a fair price, of course. I don’t work for free, Obi-Wan.”

She saw the burden lift from him as he sagged in his chair, his tension alleviated. Tears slipped down his cheeks and dampened his beard even as he tried to smile through his sadness. “Ventress,” he said so quietly she almost couldn’t hear him. “Thank you.”

She nodded at the drink between them. Let him have it. He needed it more than she did that night. He stared miserably into the bright liquid before he downed it in one swallow. She took the empty glass and flipped it over on the table. “Consider that as drinking to our agreement,” she said. He nodded, his eyes still flowing with tears, and his expression a strange mixture of sadness, hope, relief, and gratitude. Ventress stood and found herself smiling back at Obi-Wan, hers of reassurance and regret. “I’ll send word when I can,” she said. “But now, I have a little Togruta to find.”

Obi-Wan watched her leave until she blended into the crowd of Coruscant. He had a feeling it would be the last time they would ever see each other in person.

“For a skinny little thing, you’re a lot heavier than you seem!” Ventress grunted as she dragged an unconscious Togruta up the ramp of her small ship. Blaster fire tailed them, and she deflected it as best she could with one ignited lightsaber. Her other hand held onto Ahsoka Tano’s arm as she pulled her along with her. “Come _on_!” she shouted to herself and the motionless Togruta.

She punched the activation for the airlock door and the withdrawal of the ramp. She dropped Ahsoka to the deck and raced to the controls and fired up the engines and activated the shields. Her fingers flying over the console to get a course charted somewhere, anywhere. “Hurry!” she muttered to herself. She clamped down on her nerves and buried them. They had no place in her mind, not now. It would only cause her to fail.

Armored troopers circled her ship. She saw them from the cockpit. As one they raised their blasters and fired. The shields deflected them. For now.

“Now would be a good time!” she shouted at her ship. She had to get them away. One wrong command into the controls meant their deaths and Asajj Ventress had no intention of dying on this forsaken planet on her rickety ship when she’d managed to drag an unconscious Ahsoka Tano from the scene after clawing her out of the collapsed wreckage that nearly became her tomb. These clone troopers wanted them dead.

She slammed her fist on the control panel with a cry. The indicator lights turned blue, the ship shuddered, then lifted from the planet’s surface and shot high into the atmosphere with blasterfire whizzing past her the whole way, leaving the clones behind them.

_That was cutting it a little close._

She keyed in a quick code into her comlink panel and immediately started talking. “Kenobi! I have her. Something is wrong with your clones! They shot at her.” Her com returned her with static. “Kenobi! Where are you?” She waited, her breath coming hard and panicked. She bit her bottom lip to stifle that panic. “Kenobi! Answer me!”

Static.

Nothing.

Ventress blinked, ignored the tears that fell and swiped away the ones that would have followed. She put the ship on autopilot so that she could rush back to the crumbled form of Ahsoka. Ventress hoped she wouldn’t find her a corpse, not after all of the effort to get them both aboard. She crouched at Ahsoka’s side and turned her onto her back. The scorch of a blaster cut across her arm in a grazed hit. She was covered in dirt and dust from the collapsed building. Blood ran from a wound on her forehead. Miraculously, her lightsabers remained with her. “Wake up, Ahsoka!” Ventress commanded. “Wake up!”

Nothing.

Ventress didn’t even try to hold back her emotions as her adrenaline faded and the shock set in. She sobbed, gut-wrenching, heaving sounds tore from her throat. Her hands shook uncontrollably as she desperately felt for a pulse. Her vision blurred with tears. She tried to make sense of what happened. One moment as she watched over Ahsoka from a distance, everything seemed fine, calm. The next, chaos erupted and, as one, her clone companions raised their blasters. Ventress may have shouted a warning, she couldn’t remember. It didn’t much matter. It was too late. Four lightsabers ignited as one and blasters were deflected for moments before some of the clones shifted their aim higher and brought the building done upon them. Ventress leaped free of the main collapse, but Ahsoka had not been as lucky. Ventress was still buried, but nowhere near as cripplingly as the Togruta. She waited, terrified to breathe if it would reveal she survived, until she heard the clones retreat from their location.

Then she clawed them both out of the rocks and debris with agonizing slowness and with as much silence as possible, using the Force to shift rocks when she could. Otherwise, she used her bare hands. She’d hauled Ahsoka out and didn’t even have a chance to take stock of her injuries before she heard a shout in the distance. “Get her!”

Then, without thinking or hesitation, Ventress grabbed Ahsoka and ran.

And now she lay there on the deckplates, motionless and barely alive. Ventress didn’t know what to do. If only Kenobi would answer her.

Kenobi! An idea hit her like a blaster bolt. His patient instruction came to the forefront of her memory easily, despite the amount of time since they were stuck together on that decrepit ship in a close escape from Maul and Savage. _The first thing you do is close your eyes. _Ventress let her eyes shut. _Breathe deeply and slowly. _She drew in a long breath of air through her nose and exhaled slowly from her mouth. _Good. Now, stretch out with your feelings towards the one you wish to transfer some of your energy. _Ventress, eyes still closed, sought Ahsoka’s signature in the Force. She held onto it tightly, determined to succeed. _Make physical contact on a place of the body in need of you._ She hesitated for a moment, but then decided Ahsoka would understand the need for touch once she woke up. She’d already dragged her through pursuing blaster fire, what harm would light contact do? Ventress set her palms against the bleeding wounds on Ahsoka’s forehead and arm. _Focus and direct your energies, your own life force, into healing and repairing what needs your help. Focus. This will do nothing if you do not truly wish the other well. It will actually do more harm than good if you hold animosity towards the person, so be sure your intention is to help them, not hurt them. Feel the Force flowing between you._

A strangled gasp shocked her from the memory and her work. She blinked furiously to clear her vision and sobbed when she met the half-lidded gaze of Ahsoka Tano. “Ven…tress?”

She nodded. She couldn’t think of anything witty or reassuring to say.

“What…happened?” Ahsoka barely managed to ask before her eyes closed again and her body went limp.

Able to take her time and move her carefully, Ventress dragged Ahsoksa to the cockpit, onto a makeshift cot, and settled her there as well as she could. “I’ll tell you later,” she said.

She spent the time alternating between trying to establish contact with Obi-Wan Kenobi and patching up Ahsoka. She checked on their autopilot course and stared off into the emptiness of space, uncertain of where exactly to take them, where to go. Lost. She’d felt this way before once, a long time ago.

_Where do I go? What do I do?_

But there was no Mother Talzin to answer her now. No one would answer. Not even Obi-Wan Kenobi. He hadn’t answered her last five attempts to contact him. Ventress had never felt so alone.

A light chirp brought her back to the present. Ahsoka shifted behind her. Ventress spun the chair towards her and noticed that Ahsoka’s dented, grimy wristcom was blinking. Ahsoka gazed at it blearily then looked up at Ventress, silently asking whether or not she should answer. Ventress nodded.

A blue figure appeared. It wobbled from the damaged components of the comlink and the sound distorted at times, but the figure was immediately recognizable to both of them without identifying itself. “This is Master Obi-Wan Kenobi. I regret to report that both our Jedi Order and the Republic have fallen with the dark shadow of the Empire rising to take their place.” Ahsoka gasped, her hand covered her mouth. “This message is a warning and a reminder for any surviving Jedi. Trust in the Force. Do not return to the Temple. That time has passed and our future is uncertain.” Ahsoka tried not to cry. She did not succeed. “Avoid Coruscant. Avoid detection. Be secret. But be strong.” Ventress sat on the cot beside her, their shoulders touching, taking and giving strength from each other. “We will each be challenged. Our trust, our faith, our friendships. But we must persevere, and in time I believe a new hope will emerge.” Obi-Wan’s image lowered his eyes, drew a quick breath, then turned directly to the recorder, looking straight at Ahsoka and Ventress huddled together on their cot. “May the Force be with you. Always.” Obi-Wan’s shimmering blue figure flickered then vanished.

Ahsoka turned tear-filled eyes to Ventress, searching for something, anything, to say. Ventress exhaled and focused on releasing her uncertainties and the sensation of being lost. She stood and strode to the navicomputer, inputting a command, locked the controls and set their course. She looked over her shoulder at Ahsoka and offered her a lopsided smile, hoping to convey more confidence than she felt. “Looks like we’re going into hiding, you and I.”

She stabbed at the screen. The ship responded and entered hyperspace.

The End.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading my contribution to the Obi-Wan GenFic Exchange! I hope everyone enjoyed this one! I've never written Ventress before and I hope she came across in character. I had an awesome time writing this story, and loved working on this exchange! Let me know what you thought of this on the way out, if you would be so kind! Thank you. ~ RK


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